


Broken Bones

by kindaquirky



Series: Exit Wounds [1]
Category: Avengers, Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Prompt Fill, so does natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 03:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15787797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindaquirky/pseuds/kindaquirky
Summary: His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and broken bones.James isn't sure how to tell Steve that some things can't be fixed.





	Broken Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Overall, this will be a collection of shorts that will (most likely) be Bucky centric, and most will probably (definitely) be massive amounts of angst. Sorry?  
> This fic is a very, very short prompt fill that I believe was either from Pinterest or WritingPrompt on Tumblr, because apparently the only thing I can write in the Avengers fandom is sad sad sad. Shout out to [ANebulaDarkly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANebulaDarkly/pseuds/ANebulaDarkly) for being the best beta ever and always dealing with my small stories and massive edits.

“His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and broken bones.”

 

Steve always tried to fix things. And it was one of the things that James had to remember when Steve would drag on his last nerve. Even after James remembered who Bucky was, even after the gestures were his and not just ones he imitated from watching the news reels from WWII, even after hearing the name Bucky didn’t make him feel inadequate against a memory, he would have to remind himself that Steve had always tried to make things right.

Sam was the first person other than Steve that James could spend long amounts of time with. He exuded natural calm that, even with his patchwork past, James knew for certain neither Steve nor himself had ever had. Sam was smart enough to let James have his moments, to not touch when he shied away, and to never let him be in control of the Netflix queue unless he only wanted to Judy Garland movies. Those were reserved for Clint and his top movies by decade list that he had waved at James, movies that could possibly be a trigger with thick black lines through them.

Clint, out of all the team had been the one to get James use to the advances that his short periods out of cryo hadn’t let him be aware of. He had learned all the basics for interacting with the modern world during his Soliderdat days, but learning how to set the dvr had really helped him feel like a member of society. Steve had realized that having James just learn from Clint was for the best, and when he had a problem with his phone now, he just handed it over to James and hoped for the best.  
James tried to interact with Banner and Stark as little as possible. Banner, with his false calm and intelligencee,, had a tendency to call up nightmares of the hydra doctors and their lies. There was no way for him to change that around James, nor should he have to. James interacted with him when necessary but didn’t seek him out like Clint or Sam. Stark’s attitude, no matter how much he denied it was far too similar to Howard for James to make the distinction between them on his bad days. Which there were still far, far too many of to feel comfortable around Stark. Taking out his anger that Howard never found Steve on Stark wasn’t fair to either of them. Especially since James was aware of how Stark resented Bucky and Steve already for knowing his father when he was at his best, not the absent businessman he became.

Thor and his woman were around so little that his their presence often made a dent in his world. His presence could be soothing, his understanding of what it was like to lose almost everyone you loved. Even if for James, time had been the killer of his family, it was a pain that couldn’t be relieved, and Thor understood. Understood with how he would tell James his mother’s favorite color, when he and James listened to Becca’s favorite song. They traded stories of younger siblings being nosy and how tight their mothers could hold them. Jane brought the same wariness that Banner did, but her earnestness in everything she said made it easier to be in her presence.

Steve had an idea that he could help fix James. Sam had worked out as a friend and ally, which pleased Steve. Clint had been a surprise, but his easy camaraderie and easier personality reminded him of Commandos in the best ways, so James knew Steve had counted it as a win. The others circled James and continued with their lives, never sure of him, but trusting Steve and his judgment. James was, if not happy with his situation, because that was a feeling he was quite sure he would never feel again, then at least pulling for content. For Steve though, who remembered Bucky with a clarity that made James ache, remembered him happy, remembered when a crowd didn’t cause sweat to drip down his nape, and his fingers to pull a trigger he wasn’t even holding, content was merely a starting point. He remembered a Bucky who loved people. Loved the people Steve loved, and called them his own as well. Steve had good intentions. Just not when it came to Natasha.

Natasha had been a balm to Steve, in a strange time in his life. Steve, always able to find the good in people had to tried to cultivate that in her. Natasha had allowed him to try, always enjoying when people did their best to make her anything other than what she wanted herself to be, now that she could decide. James knew that Steve cared deeply for all the Avengers, but that Sam and Natasha held a special place within him. Reminded him of people that he had given his life for, while showing him there were good things to be had in this modern world. Sam and James getting along had been a relief. Made Steve happy, which made James breath a little easier, that he could still do some things right. So him and Natasha, with their tight shoulders and clipped words made Steve work even harder to have two people he cared for be able to stand being in the same room with each other.

None of it was Natasha’s fault, James had told Steve over and over. It was all on James, not the mutual distaste that Steve believed it was. James said he would try harder, try to be better, which would only leave Steve tight lipped, confused why the Bucky he remembered would have a problem with a woman like Natasha. And the Bucky he remembered wouldn’t, and neither did James. There was no way to explain to Steve that the Bucky he remembered had turned into a nightmare for more people than Steve could dream of.  
James understood why Natasha shied away from him. Why she would turn and leave as soon as she saw his profile on the deep set couch with Clint, who, bless him, always pretended never to see her skulking away. Why she always took the chair farthest from him, never helped him team up against Steve like Sam did, even though they all knew how much she enjoyed making fun of him.

He was a breathing reminder of the times when she didn’t get to enjoy making fun of someone. His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and broken bones. His mere presence recalled a time when she was Natalia, or even farther back, when she was a nameless child hoping someone would save her. He reminded her that she had never truly been saved. He was everything she had once been. But when she escaped, there was no long lost friend to pull her out of the dark. There was no group to understand, to make her feel welcome. There had been S.H.E.I.L.D., and now she knew there had never even been that salvation, not truly. Bucky was everything she hated, everything she could not forget about herself. He knew, just seeing his interactions with the rest pulled up deep seeded resentment of how long it took her to acclimate to not viewing everyone as either a target or a handler.

Steve wanted to fix Bucky. He wanted to fix Natasha. James didn’t have the stomach to tell him there was no fixing objects so shattered.


End file.
